Letters To Annie
by Bulletproof Bolly
Summary: George, Mitchell and Nina each write a letter to Annie during her absence  between series 2 and 3 .
1. Nina

**Nina**

Dear Annie,  
>I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. Whatever George says, it's all my fault. If I hadn't left in the first place- or at least if I'd kept my stupidity to myself, Kemp wouldn't have tricked you, he wouldn't have forced you to go, and you'd still be here.<p>

When I came back, you gave me the warmest, most genuine welcome I could have asked for. I was shocked, amazed- I'd been expecting cold stares from everyone, but not you- no, you let me in, made me feel welcome again. I didn't deserve anything- I was there to introduce you and George to the man who would be responsible for your...what do I call it? Departure? Death? I'm going to stick with death, because, no matter what state your body may have been in, you were truly, beautifully alive.

When I found out about George- what he was, and, consequentially, what I'd become, I felt completely lost, finding out that Werewolves, Vampires- creatures that hadn't crossed my mind for years- were real. And George was so distant, I felt completely alone. I had nobody to turn to- but you helped me.  
>The more confusing the world around me became, the simpler you were; the more hostile, the colder it grew, the warmer and more welcoming you were; for every tear I shed, you gave me a smile. And how much of it did I deserve? None of it. Yes- you were a ghost, something I'd never believed could exist, but there was more to you; your invisibility, your physical state was confusing to me, but it was who you were, not what you were, that amazed me the most. I'd never believed that anyone was truly, genuinely good- that we all had a bad side somewhere. You proved me wrong. Yes, you were a spirit- something supernatural- but, more than that, you were supernaturally, fundamentally good.<p>

Your story is amazing. After what happened to you...it would only be normal for someone to become bitter, hateful, guarded for the rest of eternity- to refuse to love, to cherish anyone ever again- but it seemed to do the opposite to you; you were as warm, as loving, and as loved as anyone could ever be.

I would say 'love' or 'yours sincerely', but there's nothing I can say- there's nothing I have the right to say to you- other than that I'm terribly, genuinely, unbearably sorry for what I did, and that the world is a far colder and more hostile place without you,  
>Nina<p> 


	2. George

**George**

Dear Annie,  
>I don't know what to say. Nina and I saw it happen- we saw you go. I guess that's a blessing, isn't it, I mean, you're solid enough to appear on camera...you were slightly transparent, but you were there all the same; you looked perfectly human, only a little faded.<p>

We've moved away from Bristol- we've found an old B&B on Barry Island. Yes, I know, I didn't fancy the idea of Wales too much, but it's safe, and we all needed a fresh start. You'd love this place; there's a room specially for you- there was the most beautiful teapot on the dresser in there, and we thought it might be a sign, you know, that you might...  
>If you don't, it'll still be your room.<br>There's the most amazing mural there as well; like the view from a Hawaiian beach- so hideously tacky but brilliant at the same time. The place is called 'Honululu Nights' or something ridiculous like that. It's all Hawaiian themed...the main reason we bought it was just that we needed somewhere with a space for Nina and I to transform in (there's a basement 'gym'- we've emptied it out and we're going to take it in turns to transform there) and we needed it fast. Still, I think the unspoken reason was that we wanted somewhere warm and welcoming, and the idea of Hawaii brought some sort of warmth.

But the truth is that it's cold. It's so cold. And it's not just because of rotten Welsh weather- there's something more than that. We could stuff the whole place full of blankets, duvets and heaters and it wouldn't be any warmer. It's cold because you're not here, Annie. All this rambling, telling you how we're doing...it's pointless, isn't it? You're never going to get this letter are you? But I'm still writing, and I don't know why...

If Mitchell finds out I'm doing this I'll never hear the end of it- he'll make fun of me for the rest of my life.  
>At least, the old Mitchell would have- but he's changed. He's changed so much, Annie, you have no idea. He's been weird before, but this is different; we all know why he's acting like this, but we can't do anything about it; only you could. All you'd have to do is walk in again, and he'd be back to normal, wouldn't he? I think he would.<br>He says he's coming to get you, you know? I don't know whether he'll make it, but I hope he does. We all need you back.

You know what? There's nothing I want more than a cup of tea right now. I've tried making myself some, but it doesn't work. It's just...tea. Your tea was so much more; even when you used to dunk biscuits in and just leave them, and I'd drink my tea and find bits of semi-disintegrated biscuit at the bottom, like a signature.  
>To be perfectly honest, I've tried that. I tried dunking biscuits in my tea and leaving them there, and it still isn't the same. I've tried making tea obsessively and leaving mugs of it on every surface I can find, in an attempt to make this place feel like home again, but it didn't work.<br>I've been thinking about it so much, and although I hate the fact that this is beginning to sound like a cheesy 90s chick-flick, I can't help it. My tea- anyone's tea- isn't the same as yours because it lacks something that you have far more than anyone else- something you give to everyone, unconditionally; love. That's all there is to it. Nobody loves like you, and that's why nobody can reproduce the warmth you bring to a room, a house- the world.

I miss you so much Annie- we all do,  
>Love,<br>George.

P.S. Re-reading this...the amount of bullshit I've written is incredible. It's all true, but none of it is enough to sum up just what I'm saying. I'm going to try again;

All that time we spent trying to be as human as possible...I see now why it was easier for Mitchell and I- because we were still human, still capable of disgusting ambition and greed- still essentially, fatally flawed. You, on the other hand, couldn't possibly be human; not because you a freak, an anomaly- as you thought at the time; but because you were blessed. No, you couldn't be human, because you were already an angel.


	3. Mitchell

_Hello people :) This is the last letter- and, presumably, the one you've been waiting for- Mitchell's. It turned out considerably sweeter than I'd been planning, but I hope you like it anyway and don't feel nauseated by the sappiness :) Anyhow, thanks to anyone who's read/reviewed the two previous letters; constructive criticism is always appreciated. I hope you enjoy this- it's actually the first one I wrote. xx Bolly_

**Mitchell**

Annie,  
>I would put 'Dear', but that would make this sound like one of those thank-you letters I had to write to my old aunts as a child; false, sickly sweet, and filled with empty promises of an upcoming visit.<br>I know you won't get this. And I know this is the most morbid thing I've ever done, but here it is. I thought I might as well give it a shot; it's not like I've got anything better to do.

I'm coming to get you. I swear- I'll swear on anything you like. My life, if that's worth anything anymore; but then I'd have to break my vow, because to get to you, I have to give my life up, at least temporarily. I don't understand this, but I do know that I have to go through a door; and doors like that aren't for the living.  
>I'd swear to God; but He means nothing to me anymore, not after the shit that's done in His name.<br>I'd swear on my freedom, but what is a free man if he's alone in the world?  
>I'd even swear on George and Nina, but I know you wouldn't want that. I know you wouldn't want me to risk losing them, or to put them at risk, for you. And anyway, nothing I could ever swear on would be enough.<br>Because if I were to make a vow; the most sincere, unbreakable vow, I would swear on you.

I would swear on you because, unlike life, you're fair. You don't leave people who need you hanging; you don't stay with those who are causing so much grief in the world that they should be dead. You don't cheat. You don't leave a person, tear them away from their friends and family; and, as if that wasn't enough, then return in some dark, twisted form somewhere in between their previous state and death; without allowing them to move on, but still keeping them away from their loved ones- leaving them to walk through this bitter, fucked up world alone. Unlike life, you're constant, eternal.

When I found out you were gone, I was going to take down everybody in that building. I was going to tear all their fucking throats out; but George stopped me; and you know why? He said that if I wanted to tear away every shred of humanity, if I wanted to turn into a monster, that was fine; but he told me not to dare to do it in your name.  
>That's why I'd swear on you; because, unlike God, people couldn't possibly murder in your name. Things done in your name are beautiful, simple, good. Like the flowers Nina places next to the television; like the pot of tea that always seems to be sitting, full and fresh, on the counter in your memory.<p>

George and Nina…they're special. I love them; and I know how much you love them too. They're the best friends anyone could wish for. They're kind, supportive, trustworthy…but that's all they are. They're nothing more than excellent, loving, lovable friends; you were more than that.  
>And that is why I would swear on you, and only you; because life may be essential, God may be great, George and Nina may be the perfect friends; but you- you were the love of my life.<p>

Mitchell  
>(No 'yours sincerely' or 'love' because, however true those two statements may be, that would, once again, remind me too much of those letters I used to write, and this isn't like that. This is sincere, bittersweet, and the promise certainly isn't empty; just you wait and see, Annie, I'm coming to get you.)<p> 


End file.
